


kissing you until i lose my breath

by exit_music



Category: Doki Doki Literature Club! (Visual Novel)
Genre: ??? i think, Angst, F/F, Hanahaki Disease, Monika is bad at feelings, Ren'py Coding, Unhealthy Relationships, short and sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-18 15:48:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16997943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exit_music/pseuds/exit_music
Summary: Because Natsuki is Natsuki, small and feisty and your typical tsundere but far more special than that.





	kissing you until i lose my breath

**scene black bg**

It’s her. It’s always her.

It’s that little smile that escapes her lips when talking about manga, that raucous voice, that look in her face the first time I correctly arranged her comics...

But she— she doesn’t care.

She doesn t care if I talk to her, if I touch her, if I look at her... She only wants him. And I only want a cure—

**hide monika**

**window hide**

**pause**

**scene bg class**

**window show**

**show natsuki**

**show monika**

‘‘Gah, Monika!’’ the petite girl exclaimed, ‘‘That volume comes after this volume!’’ She whined, looking annoyed. I felt my heart pounding, resonating in my ears. Her little rants, despite blaming me most of the time, were really cute! I didn’t actually mind the way she acted towards me, given she was written to be that way, and would probably never act like that if she had free will. This was a  _tsundere_ , after all, a purposeless archetype.

What I did mind, however, was the nauseating sensation forming in my stomach. Suddenly, a shock of dizziness, and then,

**hide natsuki**

**scene black bg**

_vomiting_. Red, green, blue (flowers).

I’m so thankful for my epiphany, actually. If I wasn’t self-aware, could you imagine the amount of times I’d spountaneously puke in front of her? The amount of times I’d break down? The never-ending self doubt, anxiety, and awkwardness I’d be trapped in? I know, dear reader. I can’t, either.

**scene bg class**

**show natsuki**

I take a deep breath, willing to ignore the now fading, invisible to everyone but me, petals.

‘‘Ahaha! Sorry, Natsuki! I always confuse the covers...’’ I say, not thinking about it (It’s in my script. It has no value). The smaller girl sighs, rearraging the comics.

‘‘It’s alright... J-just... Don’t do that, okay?! Pay attention, geez!’’ She rubs her wrist, as if wanting to _peel off her skin and delete herse_  

**hide natsuki**

**hide monika**

**scene black bg**

Sometimes that happens.

**window hide**

**pause**

**window show**

**x**  

**scene white**

**bg show monika**

It's a ‘‘new’’ day (it never is, though). Even when I don’t know what happened after everything went dark, I can remember every feeling; every sensation. Painful, painful. Natsuki’s voice, clear as a summer day (pun unintended), echoing in my eardrums.

**hide monika**

I was doing nothing (I’m never doing anything), waiting for everyone to be programmed into life (for some reason, I’m always programmed earlier, I guess for being the president and everything), but—the itching in my throat comes completely out of nowhere, catching me off-guard, and—and I can only close my eyes shut, feeling aforementioned becoming teary. I can feel the illness materialized jumping out off my esophagus.

**scene bg flowers**

I open my eyes warily, and through my somewhat blurry vision I see—

Petals.

Rich, small and salmon-colored petals.

Oh.

 _Maybe I tampered too much with the coding_ , I thought.

**scene black bg**

I hold one with my suddenly too washed out hand, delicately—almost fondly (but why). The petal is sticky with saliva, alike to morning spraying, and I can only sigh (this isn’t my script anymore).

I just wanted my feelings to mean something.

That was the first time like.

**x**

**scene black bg**

I never leave school, because I can’t. I have perfect grades, but I never go to classes, because I can’t.

Does being Little Miss Perfect like that mean anything? I doubt so. The only thing that makes me _real_ is this feeling, this feeling of adoration towards certain rose-haired girl. That’s why I clung this disease so close to my heart. Somewhat, somehow, is my new purpose.

Because Natsuki has a crush on the jerk of a protagonist. Because Natsuki doesn’t think anyone could love her, but here I am, coughing flower because my veneration for her is like a black hole, deep but ultimately hollow. Because Natsuki _is_ Natsuki, small and feisty and your typical tsundere but far more special than that.

My stare usually lingers on her strawberry-tinged lips, longing for a kiss.

**scene bg flowers**

**x**  

 **scene white bg**  

Sometimes, I wish I was the protagonist.

Because, even If I’m not the player ( _real, almost alive_ ), I can be close to Natsuki.


End file.
